


Didn’t Know You Went for this Kind of Thing

by allofthefandoms



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: De-aging, Desk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 16:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/allofthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint had been hit by something, no one was quite sure what, and it had left him in an 18 year old body, still fighting off the last ravages of puberty and 5 inches shorter and 60 pounds lighter.  For days after the transformation, Phil looked at him with a guilty wanting expression, like Phil was a pedophile and Clint wasn’t a consenting adult with all of his memories intact.  Clint hated it, downright hated it, and at day 4 Clint had all but given up ever being wanted the same way as he had been as Hawkeye the Avenger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Didn’t Know You Went for this Kind of Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged for underage because there is discussion of underage issues. All parties involved are over 18 and consenting, but I figured I'd tag it just to be safe.
> 
> Inspired by the following prompt over at AvengerKink: Clint gets de-aged to around 18. None of his memories are effected, just his physical body. He's still him, just in a younger package. Phil feels kind of like a dirty old man. It's still not going to stop him from fucking Clint on every surface they can find.

Clint found himself pressed back against the desk, Phil’s hand tight across his now much less defined chest.

“You remember.” Phil’s voice is gravel, and years of conditioning sends the sound straight to Clint’s cock, even though he has the wry thin body of a carny kid rather than the bulked up body of a super-assassin. And for once, Clint is looking up, and somehow it makes him even harder. Clint was twenty when he had his last growth spurt, growing a full five inches that year despite the biological odds, and so his nose brushed Phil’s chin in this body. It was really fucking hot.

“You remember me fucking you over this very desk and even though this body is young enough to belong to my son, we both still want it.”  
God does Clint want it.

In a way, Clint has always wanted it, from the moment he set eyes on this imposing man in a suit. He only wanted it more when he learned that Agent Coulson was Phil, a Captain America fanboy and lover of Supernanny and the BBC. And when Phil had kissed him back after that desperate mission in Budapest, it was like everything in his world had fallen right into place.

And then this happened. Clint had been hit by something, no one was quite sure what, and it had left him in an 18 year old body, still fighting off the last ravages of puberty and 5 inches shorter and 60 pounds lighter. For days after the transformation, Phil looked at him with a guilty wanting expression, like Phil was a pedophile and Clint wasn’t a consenting adult with all of his memories intact. Clint hated it, downright hated it, and at day 4 Clint had all but given up ever being wanted the same way as he had been as Hawkeye the Avenger.

But right now Phil is fumbling with the belt on his regulation uniform, hands shaking with lust, and all Clint can do is moan and want. After an agonizing eternity, Phil gets Clint’s pants undone and Clint helps him kick the pants to the floor. Phil falls with them, wrapping his mouth around Clint’s cock and sucking like its candy.

Clint feels even more sensitive than he remembered, and he had no idea if it was his body or just the waiting, but soon Phil had Clint moaning and writhing underneath him.

“Need you,” Clint begs, not sure if he wants to pull away so he doesn’t come like a teenager or let Phil pull him over the edge with that sinfully beautiful mouth. But Phil seems intent on riding Clint right on his desk, because once Clint is so hard he feels there is nothing left but an orgasm, Phil pulls away.

“I’m going to split you right open,” Phil growled, taking just a moment to slick himself up with hand cream before pressing right in. The burn was agonizingly beautiful. Clint was moaning, grabbing the edge of the table in an effort not to simply crumple to the floor. Phil was setting a hard pace, the desk squeaking ominously under them. But Clint hardly cared. This was Phil, taking him just the way Clint liked, even though he looked different. This was Phil, reaffirming that this was more than just fucking, and Clint went off like a rocket, Phil’s name choked out through the spasms.

It didn’t take long for Phil to come either, three short erratic thrusts that only served to magnify Clint’s own pleasure. As they both trembled through the aftershocks, Phil eased them to the floor, a soft smile on his face. They are both breathless and shaking, but Clint is wonderfully fucked out and the come down is perfect.

“Didn’t know you went for this kind of thing,” Clint said, gesturing to his wry 18 year old frame. Phil just laughed, slightly choked and still panting. Clint can’t help but be oddly touched, and when Phil grabbed his hand, rubbing a thumb over familiar calluses (archery is archery, and hours of practice leaves the same marks no matter what the skill is used for), Clint leans against him, his smile genuine.  
“Was scared you wouldn’t want me like this,” Clint confessed after a moment of comfortable silence, curling around Phil’s side. “I look very different like this, and when you wouldn’t even talk to me for days, I feared the worst. I hated that you treated me differently because of my body when I’m the same up here.” 

“I thought it was wrong to want this body,” Phil whispered, running a hand down Clint’s spine. “I’m sorry I gave the impression that I didn’t want you.”  
“Don’t think that now,” Clint said wryly, shifting as the soreness from their fucking began to set in. “Ass hurts too much to think that.”


End file.
